By the prison gate
lone brown napkin somersaults
forward in the breeze
Man in the wheelchair
needs his umbrella back...
sweat bulbs in my sleeves
Twilight-tinged window
scent of cooking liver
three hours to Sunday
"O, no one loves me!"
a game for my mind
woolly countless eons
One shoe, a tin cup
spoiled celery for breakfast
shadow of the church
Madman screams again
The downtown beggar
died last week; a reminder
to cherish mint leaves.
Regular waves in
successive spikes, a thin stream
ending at the drain.
Car horn from below,
“Shave and a haircut, six bits,”
staccato, then out.
Light at my old work
goes out, the very instant
my night bus rolls past.
3:05 pm,
crescent moon, halfway hidden,
scudding eastward clouds.
Spring blossoms fallen,
She rolls up her dress
blue flowers over boxers
near the Black Muslim.
At ninety-one, how
many other naps has she
taken in sunlight?
The floor, worn away
into grimacing profiles,
into continents.
The fly seeks the sun,
never getting through the screen
last week of July.
Her hair, purple waves
over a determined stare,
guitar on her back.
The terns flap southeast
Sweat collecting on
the heel of my right hand
dampens the denim
I remind myself
not to expect friendship
there, that’s better.
Bellevue bus banner
“8 restaurants to choose from”
the pigeon pecks crumbs
The Fourth of July
means nothing to me this year
but thick, rolling booms.
One table, one man
eating a bean from a plate
outside, history
The fire station flag
Water flows so fast but
They can't match my thoughts
Disturbing my mind
Birds sang so sweet and louder
I looked up
That orange bright light made my day
Lighting up me and world
Telling me to let down everything go
As it goes
You who stand beneath me,
Look up at me for a while -
While you smell, breath in deep
The fragrance of my little flowers.
Did it hurt when the flower fell
On your head, my humble gift,
Here, I bend a branch of mine,
Hold, pluck the succulent fruit
For your child, a present from me.
Lean on to me, though my skin is rough,
But feel my heart that throbs for you
My veins full of the blood of love.
Here, I fan you with my leaves,
Lest you feel tired in the heat.
Did it hurt when you cut
Chopped off the branches
If you had a good night’s sleep,
There is nothing welcomer
Than the break of the dawn.
To lie on bed, watching
Eyes half-open, at the darkness
Paling, leaves of the Jack
And further away the Mango
Filtering just enough light
So that your eyes do not hurt.
There are always the birds.
Sweet tweet of the Robin
Sunbirds chirping, peering at flowers
Cuckoos always so flustered,
Plaintive, like mothers in kitchen
Scurrying about in the morning
And the omnipresent caws
My home, oasis in the middle of concrete desert.
'Still at the old house?', they ask me -
Little do they know I am so proud and smug
That I live in the hand- me-down decrepit
Where my grandmother and other ghosts linger.
I see them; there he is, my father, hopping down
From the coconut frond to nibble the leftover rice
There she is, my mother, the bossy Jungle Crow
Trying to edge out the squirrel.
Grandmother comes in the evening, hooting,
Espying from behind the tree leaves
Muttering to herself, uttering inaudible curses
At me, her grandson, that impractical dreamer.
They are all there, cousins and aunts
Maids and men, children and dogs.
They come as they wish,
A deep sigh escapes my lips, as in the morning
I empty a full bladder, leaning to the coconut palm.
Nothing more pleasurable than to empty oneself
Of urine and from one’s mind, yesterday’s thoughts.
I blush; a Black Drongo on the wires turns
Its head to look at me; a Magpie Robin trills a song.
The Kingfisher, hops down on a branch
Above my head and shakes his, as if in disapproval.
High above, against the darkening sky
The dragonflies swarm and circle
Bracing for the long journey ahead.
When do I, begin mine?
Enjoying nature
Enjoying forests, birds and the breeze
Enjoying music, reading, traveling
Enjoying looking, listening, feeling, touching –
I realize -
More than this joyful spread before me
More joyous is this gift, so special,
To find joy, to discover beauty
In matters all, piddling and profound.
Deprived, denied of everything
Of riches, of senses
Even in darkness I will remember
The light, oh life, you shed on me.
I will hope and wait
With the glow of happy memories
Warming, keeping me alive.
Like a bird in the sky
Like rain falling from a cloud
I am falling.
I fall as fast as I can
My arms and legs tucked in
I soar like an eagle
As I fall through the sky
When I pull the rip cord
I fall a lot slower
When I touch the ground
I know I am safe
And ready to do it
Again...
October leaves jostle in sedge.
Unleashed greyhound bolts.
Kittiwakes plunge aloof.
Morose sea fidgets.
The nerveless cliff
Will not ground your load.